Winter In Boston
by Nightsongx
Summary: Just your average winter in Boston with the Bishop family. Set in the AT when Henrietta never dies.


_**A/N:**_ _Here's a little fic I wrote recently. It's short and simple, but it's fluff. (SKY I'M LOOKING AT YOU. YOU BETTER BE HAPPY!) But really, ONE fluffy Peter/Olivia/Etta scene was all I ever wanted. Just ONE. *sniff* I know we got 5x13, but just… I can't… we missed an entire season of Polivietta all because of Windmark! Ugh. But really, Polivietta is my weakness. I still remember crying my eyes out during the finale. And I'm still unbelievably pissed they cut out tHE ONE SHOT OF OLIVIA HOLDING ETTA. WHY?!_

* * *

"Mommy, daddy, wake up! It's _snowing!"_ a three-year-old Etta Bishop squealed as she raced into the young couple's bedroom and leaped up onto their bed, bouncing with excitement.

"Huh—what…?" Peter jolted awake as his daughter jumped on top of him.

"Daddy, guess what? There's _snow_ outside!"

"What's this I'm hearing about snow?" Olivia asked groggily as, she too, was woken by Etta's exclamation.

"Well, I woke up, and I looked outside the window, and there was snow _everywhere!_ It was coming out of the sky, too!" Etta explained.

"Snowing? Again? That's the fourth time this winter…" Peter moaned.

Etta grinned.

"Olivia, remind me again how you ever convinced me to come back with you to Boston," Peter quipped sarcastically. Olivia rolled her eyes.

"I'm gonna make a snowman, and go sledding, and make snow angels, and—"

"Whoa, slow down there kiddo!" Peter cut Etta off. "First we need to make some breakfast, and _then_ we can go outside. Okay?"

Etta nodded, still enthusiastic. She crawled over to the edge of the bed and leaped down, racing out of the room and towards the kitchen without another word.

"Doesn't she ever get tired of snow?" Peter sighed.

"Hey, don't tell me you weren't the same when you were young!" Olivia said playfully.

"Okay, you got me there."

"Mommy, daddy, are you coming?" Etta called out from the other room.

"Don't worry sweetheart, we're coming!" Olivia replied, smiling. Peter hauled himself out of bed and Olivia followed. As they trekked through the hallway to the kitchen, Peter stopped by the window, staring in shock.

"That's at _least_ a foot of snow out there!" he cried in disbelief.

"And still coming down…" Olivia added.

"I don't know if we'll even be able to get the car out of the driveway. It's completely buried!"

The two walked over to the front door, and Peter opened it to reveal a mound of snow up to their knees. Olivia glanced over at Peter expectantly.

"Oh _no,_ I am _not_ shoveling this driveway—"

"Please, Peter? I'll give Etta her next bath . . ." Olivia offered in a mock plead.

"NO BATH!" Etta called out from the other room.

Olivia looked over at Peter, putting on her most convincing face.

Peter sighed, running a hand through his tousled brown hair. "Alright, alright, I'll do it . . ."

She smiled, leaning against Peter. "I'll take care of Etta. And _maybe_ I'll come out later and help you."

Peter snorted, pulling on his black pea coat and gloves. Grabbing the snow shovel, he went out of the door to brave the bitter cold of the Boston winter.

* * *

They had just finished breakfast when Olivia suggested to Etta that they make some hot cocoa for Peter and all of his hard work. Etta was delighted at the prospect, and raced into the kitchen, Olivia following more slowly.

"I'll get the hot cocoa mix, but can you get the marshmallows out for me, honey?" Olivia asked her daughter. Etta nodded, giggling, and went over to the pantry.

Olivia began heating the water on the stove, and Etta returned with the marshmallows. "Thank you, Etta!" she said kindly. Etta tried to jump up to see past the counter, but unfortunately she was too short. Olivia picked her up in one arm, while pouring the water into mugs with the other hand. She dumped the hot cocoa mix into the mugs and began to stir them, Etta watching curiously.

"I'll let you put the marshmallows in, honey," Olivia told Etta.

"Yay!" Etta laughed, picking up the bag of marshmallows. Once Olivia had finished mixing, Etta dumped a rather large amount of the treats into the mugs, so much that they nearly overflowed.

"That's a _lot_ of marshmallows," Olivia noted, "But I'm sure Peter won't mind."

"He'll _love_ it!" Etta grinned.

"I'm sure he will," Olivia agreed, gently setting Etta down on the floor. "Now, I'm going to go bring a mug out to him. But you can take this one." she said, handing Etta a steaming cup of the hot cocoa. Olivia picked up another mug and walked over to the front door, pulling on her own pea coat.

She opened the door and was greeted by a gust of icy cold wind. Her breath fogging in front of her, she gazed around the yard and spotted Peter near the end of the driveway. Surveying his progress, she realized he had shoveled a _lot_ since she had first sent him out.

Olivia began to walk slowly down the driveway, careful not to spill any of the hot drink. She eventually reached Peter, who looked up and said, "Ah, finally—"

Peter's remark was cut off as he suddenly lost his balance on the slippery ice. He tried to prop himself up with the snow shovel, but ended up landing flat on his back.

Olivia tried not to laugh—she really did—but Peter's face was so absolutely hilarious that she burst out laughing.

"Hey, it's not funny!" Peter protested, but soon he was laughing, too.

Finally, Olivia, still chuckling, reached out her hand to help Peter up off of the ground. But she too slipped on the ice, landing right on top of Peter and spilling the hot cocoa all over both of them. Soon the two were laughing uncontrollably again.

"So much for hot cocoa . . ." Peter said. Olivia just sighed.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ _It's too cute ^3^ I can't take this! I really wish this or something like it could have happened. Oh well. Also, this is based on one of my own prompts on the Tumblr blog OTP Prompts._


End file.
